


Chemistry

by Karina



Category: Eminem (Musician), Hip Hop RPF
Genre: First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:47:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23342683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karina/pseuds/Karina
Summary: A fictional account of their first meeting.
Relationships: Dr. Dre/Eminem
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	Chemistry

After getting out of the taxi in front of the house, Marshall took a deep breath. He reached the address that he was told to go to. 

'Even fucking Cinderella wouldn't have imagined a situation like this,' Marshall thought to himself. 

It was like a hazy, dusty path had turned to gold overnight. 

He pressed the button on the intercom. 

"Hello," he said. 

"Welcome, man," answered the recognizable voice.

When the door opened, Marshall's eyes met with his rap idol.

"I'm Marshall," he softly but nervously said. 

As for Dre he stood there mesmerized, and his eyes were fixed on the petite white boy that had arrived at his doorstep. 

"So you were the kid on the radio last night…come on in," Dre warmly said, as he welcomed him into his house. 

They both entered the spacious living room and Dre offered to set aside Marshall's jacket and bag. 

"Let me get us something to drink," Dre said.

Marshall took a look at the beautiful yet simplistic living room. It was far more spacious and beautiful than any room he'd seen. It suggested an air of calmness and warmth; far removed from the dysfunction at home in Detroit. Even Dre's voice which sounded so defiant while rapping seemed so calming and warm to him. 

Dre then came back with two glasses of water and set them on the coffee table in front of them. 

"Hang on, Marshall, let me get something else," Dre told him.

"Thanks, uh, Dr…….," Marshall said to him. 

"You can just call me Dre. No need to be nervous," Dre smiled. 

"But you're my rap idol since childhood!" Marshall blurted. 

"I'm seriously flattered, man. Wait a sec, OK?"

Dre soon returned to the sofa and casually placed a cassette on table.

"Recognize this?"

It was no doubt recognizable to Marshall, as the tape in front of him was the demo tape he had made. 

"How the fuck did you…?"

"Well, I got it from an intern who works for us at Interscope. He said he got it from the Rap Olympics. So I popped it in and I was just fucking amazed. But I had no way to get in touch with you. I kept it anyway, hoping that someone somewhere would have info on you," Dre remarked.

"Holy shit! I had no idea he worked for Interscope! I got second place and felt like I was robbed from winning. I just like threw the tape at him, like whatever, you know? I was trying to get my EP and demo tape dropped off at all these labels! That's why I came here to LA with my crew. Executives wouldn't even let us in!" Marshall exclaimed.

"Is that why you were on the Wake-Up show? To get noticed?" Dre asked.

Marshall nodded. 

''Was that beat last night intentional?" 

"Yeah. I mean, like, I really liked it and it's by you. So why the hell not?"

"Did you think me or some other guy in the industry would be listening?" Dre continued to probe. 

"Well, hell yeah! But I didn't think it'd be you," Marshall answered. 

"Why? You thought I don't give a damn about radio?"

"I meant like I fantasized about it but I never thought you'd be the one to actually pick me up like this. Or get that tape," said Marshall with a shy smile. 

"It's gonna sound corny as hell but maybe that was meant to be," Dre laughed.

"Yeah," Marshall said. 

"So, you don't sound like you're from LA."

"Yeah. I'm from Detroit," 

"Cool. And I'm just curious. You just look and sound so young. How old are you?"

"I'm 25," Marshall answered. 

"No shit! You could pass as a teenager! Well, at least I know you're legal," Dre said with a hint of relief in his voice. 

"I've lied about my age before. Just messing with people, you know?"

Dre burst out laughing. 

"You're my kind of guy!"

"Anyway, like I said on the phone, I wanted to meet you to talk about a record contract. I'm dead serious about it. Ever since I got that tape, I've wanted to sign you. And it ain't about your color---I didn't know what you looked like until you actually came here," Dre continued.

"I'd do anything for a contract. Especially from you," Marshall answered. 

Dre's eyebrows raised out of curiosity. 

"You know, in this industry, we say 'Game recognizes game'. Like-minded people recognize each other. Rap; your personality; which way you're inclined," Dre told him. 

"Yeah."

"I've got family. I take care of them, but romantically that's just for convenience. I guess you got someone too?" Dre asked. 

Marshall nodded. 

"But you really prefer….?" Dre continued to ask. 

"You,” Marshall blurted out.

“I mean, I don't know. Maybe I like both. I never liked labeling myself," Marshall continued, trying to find the right words to say.

"Well, my instincts were right. Anyway, I'm going to give you a contract but you're going to have to stay in LA until it's processed. You staying in a hotel now?" 

"Well, yeah. We're staying at #### Hotel. Me and my crew are supposed to fly back to Detroit this afternoon."

"Here's the deal. For a few nights you can stay here, and soon I'll have you up in a nice condo paid for by the company until the paperwork is processed. I can't let your crew live there but if they need assistance I'm willing to help. Don't worry about money and don't worry what anyone says about us," Dre told him.

"I really appreciate it, Dre, I really do. How you're doing all this for me…," Marshall said.

"Funny that we just met, but we've got this intense chemistry. Does that make sense, Marshall?"

"Yeah, it does," Marshall assured him.

"Now, I'm gonna make a couple of phone calls, so make yourself comfortable.”

Marshall glanced at the two glasses of water on the table. 

'So the feeling’s mutual,’ Marshall thought.

After a while, Dre came back to the living room. 

"So I got on the phone to talk to the hotel and told them to tell your crew about your situation. I didn't go into detail but now they know you'll be in LA for a little while longer with everything taken care of," Dre said as he finished up his water.

"Yeah," Marshall replied. His expression was a mixture of joy and anticipation, tinged with starstruck awe.

"I also made a call to the record company, and they're going help me get your contract ready. It took a lot of convincing, but they know there’ll be hell to pay if they don’t believe in my eyes for talent. They're also gonna put you up in a condo near here, with the rent paid for you," Dre finished. 

"Oh my God, Dre, this is just so generous of you. You literally picked me up and saved my life! I don't how I can pay you back for how far you're going with this. I mean, I'm just a kid from Detroit; grew up listening to rap; loved NWA, your solo stuff, and your producing…. And now here I am in your living room!" Marshall told him.

"I don't do this just for anyone. And I don't go all the way for someone just because they're a fan. I'm going all the way for you because you can spit rhymes better than most folks out there. I'm going all the way because I believe in you. I'm going all the way because I can feel we've got chemistry. I'm willing to risk my career for you, Marshall," Dre replied. 

"I've been wronged and fucked over by so many people to the point where I have trust issues. But I believe you, Dre. Because you're, like, one of the few people who care. You're one of the few people who see my potential without this "for a white boy" qualifier," Marshall honestly and slowly replied. 

"Good to know that," Dre told him. 

"I'm not just saying that because I'm a fan," Marshall added. 

"I'm honored."

They continued to talk and joke around, and it had felt as if they'd known each other for a long time. 

"You hungry, Marshall? We can get a bite to eat, chill out, get to know each other more… then I'll show you my home studio," Dre noted. 

"Sure. I'm up for lunch!" Marshall exclaimed. 

After lunch, Dre showed him the bedroom that he'd be staying at. 

“It’s like a fucking gorgeous hotel room…!” Marshall exclaimed.

“Well, actual plush hotels around here are bigger than this…, but glad you like it. Come on in.”

Marshall approached the bed, feeling the mattress with one hand.

“Nice mattress, too,” he added. 

Dre quietly shut the door and locked it, and then placed Marshall’s bag and belongings near the closet. 

“We can just chill out here for now. You can use this place to sleep in or whatever,” Dre told him. 

“Awesome!” 

Dre sat next to Marshall on the bed. 

“So, I wanna get to know you better. You probably know more about me than I know about you…,” Dre told him. 

Marshall then began talking about his upbringing and life so far, complete with anecdotes that were sometimes hilarious, and sometimes terrifying. 

“You don’t have to tell me your whole life story now...cause it’ll ruin the fun, but man...you’ve had quite a life,” Dre noted. 

Marshall nodded in agreement.

"It's OK. I don't want any pity from anybody. But I've got a chance to make my life better. I don't want to be a victim. I'm gonna be a survivor," he told Dre.

"That's my boy. We're not gonna take shit from anybody or play the victim," Dre said, draping his arm around Marshall. 

Marshall felt himself leaning in to Dre while still being held in his arms. He felt he could bare his soul and even his body to him and not feel afraid. 

Dre noticed the magnetism that Marshall had, which was already evident on the tape and on the radio, but seeing him in person had a hypnotizing effect. Marshall being so physically near him merely added to it. 

Marshall's smooth face brushed up against Dre's cheek. 

"I mean I didn't mean to…," Marshall coyly said. 

"No it's all good," Dre answered. 

Part of Dre wondered if Marshall had done that on purpose. The other thought in his head was to surrender to his feelings. 

"As you know, I had to leave because of all the drama. I feel like this is like a new beginning," Dre said.

"Yeah? It feels like that for me, too. I can trust you to treat me right. I'd do anything for you, Dre," Marshall replied to him. 

"I'd do anything for you, too."

Dre could feel his cock hardening and straining against his jeans. 

"But the more you look at me like that, the more I don't know what to do with myself," he said, guiding Marshall's hand to his crotch area. 

"You said you'd do anything for me, Marshall. I need your help down here," Dre said, his voice becoming more authoritative. 

"What do you want me to do? Say it, Dre…," Marshall answered. 

"I need you to suck my dick. Now, get on the floor…," 

Marshall got off the bed, kneeled on the floor, and then started to take off Dre's jeans and underwear.

"You ever done this?" Dre asked. 

"No," Marshall admitted. 

"Good. Suck it real good, OK?"

Marshall then placed his mouth around the cock and started to use his tongue on it. 

Breathing and moans escaped from Dre's mouth. 

'Damn! I'm making Dre turned on! Un-fucking-believable!' Marshall thought to himself. 

His tongue and lips slid up and down the hardness, and with every moan Marshall could feel his own cock get hard. 

"That's good…yeah right there," Dre whispered. 

His lips continued to grip it tightly while his tongue hungrily moved about. 

"Fuck yeah, Marshall… suck it…," 

Every moan and breath meant Marshall was hitting the right spot. 

"Keep going…," Dre told him. 

'Now my cock's raging hard! Dre!' Marshall thought.

Marshall started to aggressively savor the cock while his hands started to grip the base. 

Dre let out more moans and grunts. The pleasure was overwhelming to him. 

"You want my cum?" 

Marshall briefly stopped, looked up at Dre straight in the eye, and nodded.

He then continued to suck on it, eager to please Dre. 

"I'm gonna cum," Dre grunted.

As Dre moaned in ecstasy, his cum entered Marshall's mouth.

It was sticky and thick, but he managed to swallow everything. 

"Damn, Marshall! You got skills," Dre remarked.

"I'm fucking hard now… but people say I cum too fast," Marshall replied. 

"Don't believe what anyone else says. Here, wait a sec," Dre told him. He then rummaged through a drawer to grab something.

It was a cock ring. 

"I know how badly you want me. I bet you've fantasized about me," Dre seductively said. 

"Yeah…I'm so fucking hard… I want you, Dre," Marshall desperately pleaded. 

Dre motioned Marshall to come on to the bed. As soon as Marshall got up, he picked him up, placed him on the bed, took off his pants and underwear, then placed the ring on Marshall's hardness. 

"This'll help," Dre told him. 

Dre then started touching Marshall's thighs and planted kisses on them. Marshall's body writhed in pleasure. He'd never been loved like this before. 

Dre's mouth moved onto Marshall's cock; the tip had been dripping with pre-cum. 

He started slowly, being careful not to hit the sensitive spots too soon. It was a kind of pleasure that was both physical and emotional; Marshall was now letting out sensual breaths and moans. 

"You're better at this… than…," Marshall said. 

Dre glanced at him, then crawled over to Marshall's mouth to kiss him. Dre didn't want to hear the rest of that sentence. Only the first part mattered. Dre's tongue entered his mouth, while their tongues were frantically rubbing against each other. 

After their kiss, Dre went back to licking and sucking Marshall's cock, careful not to overwhelm him. 

"Dre… mmn! Fuck yeah," he moaned. 

Dre then used his lips to adjust the pressure on the cock. The sight of his boyish face coupled with moans and begging for more deeply satisfied him.

"Make me fucking cum, Dre! I can't take it any longer!" he told him, his voice virtually out of breath. 

Dre's mouth tightly engulfed Marshall's cock while he aggressively licked the most pleasurable spots with his tongue. 

"Fuck I'm gonna cum soon…,"

A few moments later, Dre could feel the cock in his mouth, with a massive amount of cum coating his mouth and throat. Marshall had felt gushes of extreme pleasure each time his cock shot out cum. 

It took a while for them to catch their breath again. 

"That felt fucking great, like, it was the best I've ever had," Marshall told him.

Dre smiled naughtily.

"I'd say the same about you, Marshall. Anyway, I wanna show you my studio. Let’s get dressed,” he told him.

Both of them headed over to Dre’s spacious and plush studio in the house.

“This is fucking amazing,” Marshall exclaimed. 

Upon entering the studio, they chatted about music and equipment for a few minutes. Dre started to prepare a beat from his equipment and a sample.

“Hi, my name is….!” Marshall started rapping. 

“Wait….Marshall! I gotta record this,” Dre told him; his fingers were scrambling on the machines, trying to capture the magic that they had. 

They ended up spending six hours in the studio that day, with multiple tracks recorded during that session. 

It was just the beginning of a deep, loving, and musically productive relationship.


End file.
